


Realizations

by jjmash



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, POV Outsider, oblivious Foxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjmash/pseuds/jjmash
Summary: What if Wymack hadn't been so quick to figure out the nature of Neil and Andrew's relationship? What if instead he found out by walking in on them one night in the locker room?"Don't you assholes have a dorm or a car or something?"Updated to include more team realizations.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 32
Kudos: 673
Collections: crying over andreil brb





	1. Wymack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled my first all nighter in several years to finish reading this goddamn series. I'm so tired.

Wymack was annoyed when he pulled into the court parking lot at 10 pm. He’d left a perfectly good glass of scotch behind at Abby’s house in order to collect the files on the potential new recruits that he’d mistakenly left on his desk earlier that day, and he was distinctly _not happy_ about it. As he walked briskly down the long hallway to his office, grumbling to himself the whole way, he heard an odd scuffling noise coming from the men’s locker room. 

“Motherfuckers,” he mumbled under his breath, assuming it was more vandals who’d managed to sneak past security to destroy the team’s locker room. They’d had so many trespassing incidents in the past year that they barely even phased the coach anymore, although his well of anger on his Foxes' behalf never seemed to run entirely dry. 

Wymack pushed the door open with a bang, planning to catch the intruders red handed. Instead, he was confronted with an entirely unexpected – and very much unwelcome – scene.

His sociopathic goalie and the team rookie were pushed up against the lockers, sweaty from a late-night practice and still halfway in their gear, limbs tangled in a jumbled mess as they grunted into each other.

Kissing wasn’t really the right word for what they were doing; it was more like a full-on battle, their hands tugging violently at clothing and hair like even they weren’t sure if they were trying to shove each other away or draw themselves closer together.

Wymack let out a weird, strangled sound at the sight of them, thinking about the inevitable shitstorm this was going to bring down on his team.

The two men pulled apart at the sound, their breathing ragged and heavy. Neil just barely had the decency to look embarrassed, while Andrew didn’t even bother turning around to look at their coach.

“What the fuck?” Wymack had meant for it to sound angry, but it came out more startled than anything. Neil just shrugged from his place against the lockers, Andrew’s hands still braced on either side of him as if to prevent him running away.

“You’re the one who told us to work out our issues,” he said simply, not looking nearly as sheepish as Wymack thought was appropriate for the situation.

“I meant on the court, you morons!”

Andrew waved a dismissive hand in his direction, still trapping Neil against the lockers with his body.

Wymack looked at Neil suspiciously as the rookie tried to subtly wipe a small trail of blood from the corner of his lip.

“And you’re both okay with this?”

Andrew twisted around to fully face him for the first time since he’d entered the room, and Wymack immediately wanted to scrub his own eyes out with bleach when he caught sight of the dark purple bruises – and jesus christ, were those _bite marks?_ – that littered the goalie’s neck and jawline.

Andrew’s voice was the same bored monotone as always when he finally spoke to his coach, but his eyes held a lethal warning.

“What did you just say?”

Neil whispered something to him in German, probably trying to calm him down, and then spoke up louder in English.

“We’re fine, Coach.” Wymack looked at him disbelievingly and Neil hastened to add, “We’re all good, honestly. We know what we’re doing.”

Wymack was reasonably satisfied with the answer, although he was pretty certain that they did not, in fact, know what they were doing. 

“Is this going to be a problem for the team?”

“No,” Neil said indignantly, clearly offended by the implication that he’d do anything to jeopardize the team’s chances of making it to the championship games. 

The coach nodded. “Alright then, clean yourselves up and come help me pick our new recruits, that’s why I’m here anyway.”

Andrew looked as bored as ever, but Neil perked up. He angled his head around Andrew’s broad shoulders to peer intently at Wymack.

“Really? You want us to help with the recruits?”

Wymack was almost tempted to smile at the kid's enthusiasm; very few of his players had ever loved Exy the way that Neil did, and the boy still always looked slightly shocked that he was being allowed to play at all.

“Yeah, I was going to ask for your opinion tomorrow at practice anyway.” He didn’t add that he fully expected Neil to lead the new recruits as their captain next season.

“Shouldn’t Kevin be the one to help pick them?”

“You can make your choices tonight, Kevin can take a look tomorrow, and I’ll make the final cut,” Wymack explained.

Neil began to push away from the lockers, but Andrew’s shoulders tensed as his hands remained on either side of Neil, effectively locking him in. 

“It’s okay,” Neil said quietly, “he’s already seen.”

As Andrew dropped his arms and let Neil move around him, Wymack finally understood why the goalie had been reluctant to leave his spot in front of Neil. It wasn’t because he was being possessive or aggressive, as Wymack had thought, but rather because Neil was shirtless. Andrew was covering Neil’s body so that the coach wouldn’t see the extensive scars that blanketed the rookie’s torso – the scars that Neil was usually so careful not to let anyone see. Realization hit Wymack like a ton of bricks. This obviously wasn’t the first time they’d done this. Somehow, Andrew had been allowed to see Neil’s scars before, and he cared enough to want to protect them from being seen by anyone else. Andrew _cared_ about Neil.

Wymack watched Andrew watch Neil pull on his t-shirt. 

“Don’t you assholes have a dorm or a car or something? Can you not do this in my locker room again?”

“Yes, Coach,” was the only response that he managed to get.

“Jesus, I’m gonna order STD tests for the whole team on Monday,” Wymack muttered.

“You don’t need to, we’re not fucking anyone else.”

Wymack looked at Andrew in surprise, but Andrew’s face revealed nothing. Neil nodded in confirmation. Huh.

“I’m still going to get everyone tested,” Wymack replied, and Neil and Andrew could hear him continue muttering to himself as he left the room to let them clean themselves up.


	2. Renee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: choking, violent outburst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why can't I stop thinking about these characters? Send help. Also thanks for the comments, those were nice to read.

Andrew watched Neil’s body crumple to the ground in slow motion as the opposing team’s sneering backliner sped away. It took only a millisecond for him to process what had happened; the gargantuan backliner had slammed Neil into the plexiglass wall in a brutal body check. Andrew was out of the goal and at the half court line before anyone else realized what was going on. Even with his racquet bouncing against his chest – _he was going to beat the shit out of that backliner with it_ – Andrew was moving faster than he had in a long time. The court around him blurred to gray until all he could see was his target and the sound of the crowd faded to nothingness so that all he could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat. 

Andrew was only yards away from the backliner whose back was still turned to him when his arms were violently yanked behind him and held there, his stick clattering noisily to the ground. It was Matt, towering over Andrew as he pinned his arms behind his back. Andrew wasted no time in throwing his head backward into Matt’s chin, his skull colliding with his teammate's jaw in a loud crack. Matt cursed behind him but didn’t loosen his grip enough for Andrew to break free.

Nicky, who’d been busy shouting obscenities at the other team, seemed to notice for the first time what was going on and rushed over to help. The two backliners painstakingly tugged their goalie backwards while Andrew continued to struggle against them, the tendons in his neck taut and straining as he tried to push forward. He started to laugh in crazed frustration - it wasn’t his old medication-induced manic laughing, but it was terrifying nonetheless. Andrew knew he looked feral when the opposing team’s backliner finally turned to face him, and Andrew relished in the horrified look on the offender’s face as they locked eyes.

A referee hurried over to prevent the impending fight and immediately red-carded the backliner for the illegal check; Neil had been nowhere near the ball when he’d been violently knocked into the wall. The card was also an excuse to get the backliner off the court and out of Andrew’s line of sight – an excuse the opposing player quickly took advantage of. Matt and Nicky held tight to Andrew for a few extra minutes, waiting for him to finally relax. As soon as they let him go, Andrew turned and promptly punched them both in the stomach, knocking the breath out of them and forcing them to double over in pain.

“Hey, psycho!” Dan was racing onto the court toward Matt’s now prostrate form. “They just stopped you from getting thrown back in jail!”

Andrew just looked at her calmly, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. Wymack came storming up behind her.

“Off the court, now.”

Andrew walked casually back to the sidelines where Renee was getting ready to take his place. “He’s with Abby,” she said quietly as he brushed past her, an infuriatingly understanding smile on her face.

“Don’t let them fucking score,” he said harshly. The replacement goalkeeper nodded her assent, but she couldn’t entirely hide her surprise – it was no secret that Andrew didn’t care about the game. He didn’t give a shit about Exy or the team’s record. But Neil cared, and Andrew told himself that he just didn’t want to deal with the rookie's pathetic self-flagellation if the team lost while he was out of commission.

Andrew was on his way to Abby’s examination room when he was intercepted by Bee, who looked calm but concerned. 

“Andrew,” she said.

“Bee,” he nodded to her. He was about to push past her when she put up her arms as a barricade. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t still get around her, but Andrew was reluctant to do anything that might hurt Bee seeing as how she was one of the few people who he could generally tolerate most of the time. 

“Andrew,” she started again, “I don’t think now is a good time to see Neil.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think.” Andrew kept his usual cool, even tone, but he flashed a warning at her with his eyes.

“You can’t do anything for him right now,” Bee explained. “He’s unconscious. Let Abby work without you getting in the way.”

Andrew lurched forward at the word “unconscious,” but Bee refused to move out of his way. 

They were still locked in a silent standoff when Andrew heard the distant sound of the buzzer signifying the end of the game.

It took only seconds for the rest of the Foxes to come thundering down the hallway. Bee, seeming to realize that she couldn’t very well hold the entire team back, finally dropped her arms to let them pass.

Andrew was the first one in the door and Abby looked up at him from where she was prodding at Neil’s exposed chest. Andrew immediately turned on his heel and threw himself into the doorway, trying to make his small body as big as possible to block the rest of the team from seeing what was happening behind him.

“Go away,” he snarled at the upperclassmen, who were the first to reach him.

Matt, Dan, and Allison exchanged confused looks but Renee just stared at Andrew questioningly.

“No,” Dan said firmly, “we’re going to see Neil.”

Andrew didn’t respond, but he didn’t move from his post.

“Let us through, we want to see him!” Nicky exclaimed from somewhere behind the upperclassmen. 

Andrew locked eyes with Renee and whatever she saw there seemed to convince her that there was nothing they could do to get him to budge.

“Let’s go,” she encouraged the rest of the team. “Abby will update us later with what’s happening,” she added as the other Foxes hesitated. She moved to the front of the group to herd them in the other direction, and finally they all started to turn away. All except Kevin.

“No,” he said obstinately. 

“What?” Andrew replied dangerously.

“I need to see if he can play the next game. I have to start revising our game play if he’s going to be out next week.”

Andrew’s hands were around Kevin’s throat before he even had a chance to think about it, and he backed the taller man against the wall.

“I said _no_ ,” Andrew hissed. Kevin spluttered with surprise as his hands scrabbled over Andrew’s, desperately trying to loosen the short man’s grip so he could pull in more oxygen. 

It took the rest of the team more time than it should have to realize what was happening. Andrew had never so much as raised a hand to Kevin; usually Andrew spent his time going after the people who hurt the star striker, and the sudden role reversal left them all paralyzed.

Eventually Matt and Nicky snapped out of their surprise and once again grabbed hold of Andrew’s arms in an effort to restrain him, but Andrew managed to maintain his grip on Kevin’s throat. Wymack came running down the hall, finally having secured the stick rack.

“Andrew!” he shouted. “Let him go!”

Andrew didn’t even spare his coach a glance as he continued to choke the life out of Kevin, whose eyes were now streaming with involuntary tears. 

Abby appeared in the doorway that Andrew had been occupying, her attention drawn by Wymack’s shouting.

“It’s okay,” she said, stepping forward to speak directly to Andrew. “I covered him up, it’s okay.”

Andrew finally released Kevin, who promptly slid down the wall to his knees, his hands coming up to massage his bruised throat. Dan rushed forward to help Kevin to his feet, and Andrew turned swiftly to follow Abby back into the examination room. 

Neil was lying on the exam table, now covered with a sheet up to his chin, looking pale and small in his unconscious state. The rest of the Foxes filed in after Andrew, Wymack and Bee bringing up the rear.

“Fuck,” Matt muttered.

Kevin wisely stayed toward the back of the pack and leaned against the wall next to the doorway, as far from Andrew’s reach as possible.

Andrew didn’t look at any of them, his eyes instead raking over Neil’s body in a calculating examination. He picked up an edge of the sheet and drew it back just enough for him to see Neil’s torso without revealing any of him to the rest of the team. Neil’s entire side was covered in a grotesque bruise, so dark it was nearly black. The bruising seemed to make Neil’s scars stand out in even sharper relief, like raised lines on a dark canvas. The mottled skin was obscured partly by the white bandages wrapped tightly around his chest.

“Fractured ribs,” Abby explained. “That backliner must have caught him under his armor somehow.”

Andrew continued to stare down at Neil’s body, so she continued. “He’ll probably have a concussion because his helmet got knocked off with the hit, but otherwise he’ll be okay.”

“Okay” was like a trigger for Andrew. Nothing about this was _okay._ He wanted desperately to hurt someone, preferably the backliner that had done this, but he’d settle for any living thing. 

Andrew dropped the sheet back over Neil, carefully tucking it up around his chin. Then, with perfect calm and his face a mask of nothingness, he picked up the nearest object and hurtled it at the wall. The container that held Abby’s supply of bandages hit the far wall with a bang loud enough to practically shake the room. Andrew’s extensive time in the weight room had given him formidable throwing power, and the plastic container left a dent in the drywall. He turned and picked up the next thing he saw and slammed it at the wall just inches above Kevin’s head, forcing the striker to duck out of the way of the flying water bottle. As Andrew turned to pick up another object, he heard Bee’s soothing voice dimly in the background.

“Get him a sedative, Abby,” she was saying.

As the bottle of Tylenol made a loud _thwap_ against the wall, Abby moved slowly around Andrew to her locked cabinet of medical supplies. 

Wymack and the rest of the team were saying something, but Andrew couldn’t hear them over the rushing of his blood.

Suddenly Abby was next to him, and he turned to face her with pure rage in his eyes. She was holding a loaded syringe behind her back with one hand, but she held her other hand up in front of him as if trying to placate a startled animal. 

“Andrew,” she said carefully, “I’m going to give you something to put you to sleep. Is that alright?”

Andrew thought about it for a moment, a knife that he couldn’t remember removing from its sheath clasped tightly in his hand. He thought about the world going dark, about not having to feel anything for a little while. As much as Andrew despised being medicated, he felt almost desperate to escape himself. He’d crawl out of his own body if it meant not having to feel whatever this was.

“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely, and he felt a sharp stab before the knife slipped from his hand and everything disappeared.

Neil woke up some time later with Andrew staring at him from the next bed. He looked around as if surprised to find himself in the medical room. “Oh,” he said dumbly. He turned his attention to Andrew. “Did we win?”

“Fucking junkie,” Andrew sneered, but he nodded the answer.

“Good,” Neil sighed and relaxed back onto his pillows. “What happened?”

“You got caught between that giant backliner and the boards,” he explained detachedly. “Concussion, broken ribs.”

“That’s not too bad,” Neil responded, “at least I won’t have to do homework for awhile. Why are you here?”

Andrew looked at him sharply. “None of your fucking business.”

“Okay,” Neil responded simply, unoffended, and he started to chatter on about the parts of the game that he could remember. Andrew let Neil’s voice fade into comfortable background noise as they waited for Abby to finish talking with Wymack and give Neil the go-ahead to head back to the dorms. Andrew had been fine to leave an hour ago, but he’d decided to stay and give Neil a ride back. He wasn’t really ready to let the annoying rookie out of his sight yet.

Later that night the upperclassmen crowded into Matt and Neil’s living room, Neil having left to go god-knows-where just a few minutes earlier. The rookie could barely move without wincing in pain, but he’d mumbled a halfhearted excuse as he grabbed his keys and closed the suite door behind him.

As soon as they heard the lock click in the door, Allison pounced. “What the hell was that earlier?” she asked the others.

“What,” Dan asked, “Neil or Andrew?”

Allison waved a perfectly manicured hand in an all-encompassing gesture. ”All of it. I can’t believe the monster nearly killed Kevin.”

Matt nodded in agreement. “Yeah I never thought we’d see the day when Andrew turned on Kevin. Not like he didn’t deserve it though, the way he was talking about Neil.”

Dan frowned. “It is weird though, when have you ever seen Andrew stick up for anyone who wasn’t family or Kevin?”

“Never,” Allison responded. “You don’t think…” she trailed off.

“What?” Matt prompted her eagerly.

“It’s so disgusting I don’t even want to think about it, but you don’t think they’re like _together_ , right?”

Matt and Dan laughed loudly. “No fucking way,” Dan managed to get out between laughs. “Andrew couldn’t be _together_ with anyone.”

“Well they could still be fucking,” Allison defended herself.

“Neil said he doesn’t swing, remember?” Matt piped up. “And we don’t even know if Andrew is gay.”

“I bet you $10 Neil is gay,” Allison responded. “No straight man has ever not looked at these tits at least once,” she added somewhat proudly.

“I’ll take that bet,” said Dan, and she pulled out her phone to record the bet before turning to Renee. “What do you think?” she asked the quieter girl.

Renee just looked thoughtful. “I don’t know about Neil,” she said carefully, “and you know I can’t bet on Andrew.”

Privately, Renee was almost certain there was something happening between the two men. She’d seen Andrew angry and protective before, but there was something more there when it came to Neil. He’d told her not to let the other team score, and Renee had been the only one close enough to Andrew besides Kevin to hear what Abby had said to him in the hallway. 

“I covered him up,” she’d said to get him to release Kevin.

The pieces fell into place for Renee at last. Andrew hadn’t wanted the team to see Neil’s scars while Abby bandaged his ribs–that’s why he’d been so willing to hurt Kevin despite being responsible for his protection.

Renee flashed back to the memory of an earlier conversation with Andrew, when he’d claimed responsibility for Neil. He’d seemed angry with Neil, but he’d still assured Neil’s spot on the Foxes by claiming him. Renee wondered when that anger had changed to genuine care, and how she and the team hadn’t noticed the shift.

Renee realized suddenly that the other upperclassmen were still waiting expectantly to hear the rest of her thoughts on Andrew and Neil, but she knew she wouldn’t tell them what she’d just discovered. Renee kept her friends’ secrets. She smiled at the other upperclassmen instead.

“Can we get delivery?” she asked them, deftly turning the conversation away from the rookie and her fellow goalie. The others descended into bickering as they fought over what to order while Renee continued to mull over the new information silently. She was now almost positive that Neil had left to go see Andrew. She wasn’t sure if she was happy for them or not, but she trusted them to know what was best. Or rather, she trusted Neil to know what was best. 

The more she thought about it, the more they made sense to Renee. Neil always seemed to be able to get Andrew to do things he wouldn’t otherwise do, and Renee had seen the way Neil looked at Andrew, like he was a particularly interesting puzzle he was trying to work out. Andrew, as always, was harder to read, but his actions today confirmed to Renee that he at least cared about Neil. And she had the benefit of already knowing Andrew’s sexuality. Renee smiled a little to herself as she thought about the two of them. She wondered idly when the rest of the team would figure it out before turning her attention back to the argument over food choices happening in front of her.


	3. Dan & Matt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been three days and this is starting to feel unhealthy. I'm just gonna keep going though. Thanks for all the validation!

David Wymack sighed as he propped his feet up on his desk and flipped through a small portion of the mountains of paperwork in front of him. His attention wasn’t really on the papers though; he was preoccupied with thoughts of the previous night’s game. The Foxes had taken the victory and brought themselves one step closer to the championships, but Wymack wasn’t happy. Andrew had played a particularly apathetic second half, letting in three easy goals and decimating the team’s first half lead before Wymack had managed to bribe him into at least trying with the promise of the best whiskey money could buy from the liquor store down the road from PSU.

It wasn’t hard to see what the problem was: Neil still hadn’t been cleared to play. Ever since Andrew and Neil had started whatever the thing between them was (and Wymack tried very hard _not_ to think about what the thing between them was), Andrew had been putting in more effort. Minimal effort, but for a person of Andrew’s talent even the bare minimum was enough to win games. Now that Neil was off the court Andrew seemed to have lost interest once again. It might’ve been different if Neil had at least been on the sidelines watching, but Abby had relegated him to the TV in the foyer, worried that the loud noises and bright lights of the stadium would aggravate his concussion. David had stood behind Abby’s decision 100%, but if Neil wasn’t good to play next week he was going to have to do some begging of his own to get the rookie allowed onto the bench. Wymack wasn’t sure how much more he could bribe Andrew before the appeal of free alcohol wore off, and every game was critical at this point in the season.

Wymack hadn’t made any progress on the paperwork in front of him by the time Dan knocked on his open office door at 9 am. As usual, the Foxes’ captain was carrying coffee and doughnuts for the both of them.

“Hey Dani,” Wymack said, using the nickname he had slipped into long ago and couldn’t seem to give up.

“Hi Coach,” Dan smiled back at him, looking rested and happy after the previous night’s win.

Dan always showed up to watch footage with Wymack the morning after a game, a ritual she’d picked up her freshman year. Wymack had always been like a father to her, and he was the only person who knew how much she’d struggled her first year as captain. Only Wymack had been privy to her bi-weekly meltdowns over the responsibility she felt for a team that openly hated her. Things had slowly gotten better and then improved dramatically when she finally made friends with Renee and Allison, but for a brief period of time she’d seriously considered quitting the team. Wymack was the one who convinced her to stick it out, and Dan knew she owed him her life; she didn’t know where she’d be without the Foxes.

The two of them made their way to the entertainment center and Wymack pressed play on the video of last night’s game that he’d already queued up. They discussed various plays and possible changes to the starting lineup throughout the first half, talking easily as they polished off a couple of doughnuts. When Andrew came on screen to start the second half, Wymack sighed for what felt like the millionth time that morning. Dan looked over at him as they watched Andrew let in the first of several easy goals.

“What was going on with him last night? I thought he was doing better.”

Wymack shook his head defeatedly. “He’s no good to us without Neil on the court.”

“What?” Dan asked, genuinely confused. 

“He only cares if Neil’s playing,” Wymack explained. “Haven’t you noticed that Neil’s the only one who can convince him to put in any effort at all?”

Dan thought about it, turning the coach’s words over in her mind. Neil did seem to have more sway over Andrew than anyone else, but when the rest of them asked him how he did it he always just said that he asked – an infuriating answer that made Dan want to whack him upside the head sometimes. 

“Hmph,” was her only response, and they watched the rest of the game in companionable silence.

At dinner that night Dan paid special attention to Neil and Andrew, who were sitting next to each other. They’d resumed full team dinners again thanks to Neil, who simply said he’d asked Andrew to allow it. Nicky was as enthusiastic as always, eager to make friends and keep the dinner conversation flowing. Aaron and Kevin both looked like they couldn’t care less from their positions at the end of the table, and Neil and Andrew seemed to be speaking quietly to one another at Kevin’s side. Dan couldn’t hear what they were saying and she doubted they were speaking English anyway, but she studied their body language while the conversation carried on around her.

The two men weren’t touching – nobody touched Andrew if they wanted to live – but they looked oddly comfortable with one another, their faces turned toward each other and Neil’s chin tilted in Andrew’s direction as though he was listening intently to the other man. Nicky loudly interrupted whatever conversation they were having, leaning over half the table to physically wave a hand between the two of them. Andrew’s eyes glinted with familiar anger, and Dan saw his hand twitch to his bands, a sure sign that he was about to threaten his cousin with a knife. Dan tensed in preparation, but was shocked when Andrew seemed to relax in his seat instead. Neil’s hand ghosted over Andrew’s, and it looked as though he may have actually made contact with Andrew’s skin. Dan looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the unusual exchange, but everyone else was talking as normal. _Holy shit_ , she thought to herself. 

Dan was still thinking about the incident later that night as she tried to watch some random horror movie with Matt. She’d never imagined that anyone could hold Andrew in check the way Neil apparently had at dinner. The fact that he’d actually touched Andrew and managed to keep all of his limbs was impressive in and of itself, but the idea that he had changed Andrew’s mind about hurting someone else was almost unbelievable. If Dan hadn’t seen it with her own eyes she literally wouldn’t have believed it. Andrew’s own family was powerless to control him, and Kevin, who had some sort of weird relationship with Andrew that Dan couldn’t quite figure out, had been failing to convince Andrew to care about Exy for ages. What made Neil so special?

Dan thought back to Allison’s query from the previous week: “ _You don’t think they’re together, do you?”_ she’d asked. Dan had laughed about it at the time, but the idea of Neil and Andrew being involved in some way was seeming less laughable by the minute.

Neil emerged from the bedroom just after 10 pm at the sound of a loud knock on the suite door. Dan was surprised to see not Kevin but Andrew on the other side when Neil wrenched it open. She strained to hear their conversation over the movie still playing on the TV, and she could just make out what they were saying.

“Hey.”

“Are you good to play?” Andrew asked abruptly, and Neil nodded.

“Abby says I’m fine as long as I don’t overdo it.”

That seemed to be enough for Andrew, whose face remained impassive as he glanced down at whatever it was Neil was holding in his hand. Neil’s lips quirked up into a small, private smile, but Andrew didn’t say anything as he left down the hallway. When Neil turned to close the door behind him, Dan just barely caught a glimpse of what it was Andrew had looked at: a black key emblazoned with the distinctive Maserati logo dangled on the end of Neil's keychain. The door swung shut behind Neil and Dan was left internally reeling. She knew for a fact that even Nicky didn’t have his own key to Andrew’s car – he’d complained about it loudly at dinner. The fact that Neil had been entrusted with the second key told her all she needed to know. 

Andrew and Neil _were_ together.

Dan poked Matt in the side until he paused the movie to give her his full attention.

“What’s up?” he asked curiously.

“I think Andrew and Neil are a thing,” she said wondrously, and Matt stood up so fast he practically pushed Dan off the couch.

“What?” he demanded shrilly.

Dan nodded. “I’m pretty sure Andrew and Neil are together. Or something, I don’t know.”

Matt sat back down heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “What the _fuck_ ,” he moaned. “I thought Neil had better taste than that.”

Dan hesitated as she thought about what Matt had said, then spoke again. “Actually,” she said, “I kind of think it makes sense.”

Matt looked at her like she’d grown a second head, so she elaborated. “Look, we know that Neil has some secrets, right?”

Matt nodded slowly, unsure of where his girlfriend was going.

“Okay, so we know Neil has some fucked up shit in his past that he won’t talk about with anyone. And we know for damn sure that Andrew is all kinds of fucked up but he doesn’t really talk about it either. Maybe they’re the same kind of fucked up?”

Matt shook his head. “I still don’t see it. Unless you think it’s just a physical thing?"

“No, I’m not sure it’s physical at all,” Dan replied. “But Neil definitely has a key to Andrew’s car, and you know how he feels about his car.” 

Matt looked surprised. “Neil has the other key? Do you think Nicky knows?”

“Definitely not,” Dan said, “and we’re not going to be the ones to tell him.”

“Okay,” Matt agreed. “At least now we have someone who can keep Andrew in check, I guess.”

Dan nodded. “Don’t go bugging Neil about this, okay? I don’t think he wants anyone to know, and you know how private he is.”

Matt mumbled his agreement, and Dan smiled as she curled into him. “Plus,” she said, “I like you with all of your limbs intact.” Matt smiled back at her and sighed contentedly, pressing play on the movie once again.


	4. Bee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of self-harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Karmirs, ask and you shall receive. I've never thought much about Bee and I don't really get her relationship with Andrew, but here's my attempt. In the timeless words of James Acaster, "I started making it, had a breakdown...bon appétit!"
> 
> As always thank you all for the free validation I get from your kudos and comments, and for giving me an excuse to spend more time obsessing about these characters and less time obsessing about the state of the world.

Bee flipped the switch on her electric kettle and studied the glass bee figurine on her bookshelf as she waited for the water to boil. When Andrew had given it to her a few weeks ago–well, he hadn’t given it to her so much as “accidentally” left it behind at the end of their session–she’d struggled to contain her happiness. Andrew didn’t respond well to others’ emotions, and it wasn’t helpful for him to see how much joy his little gestures brought her. Instead she’d held a few packets of hot chocolate mix out to him as he was leaving after their next session and asked if he would please take them off her hands. Andrew had taken the hot chocolate without complaint, and she knew that he understood how grateful she was.

Bee checked her watch–Andrew would be in her office in five minutes. They’d resumed their Wednesday afternoon sessions after Andrew left East Haven, and he’d never been late for an appointment. Bee remembered their first session together with a mix of fondness and sadness. Andrew had spent the entire hour trying to frighten her into asking him to leave, and at one point he’d threatened her life. But Bee had seen through the facade and the drug-induced mania; when she’d looked at Andrew that day she’d seen a broken, traumatized child beneath all the armored layers. So she’d stuck with him, and after several months of refusing to say a single word to her during their sessions he’d eventually started responding. At first it was just to tell her that he hated her, but even that made Bee want to shout with excitement. Slowly, Andrew had opened up–or done his version of opening up, anyway. 

Bee had started texting Andrew outside of their sessions after he broke one of her little porcelain figurines in a fit of rage. She’d made the mistake of asking him about Cass, his last foster mother, and he’d seized the small porcelain cat from her bookshelf and shattered it on the floor before Bee had even finished her full sentence. Andrew didn’t apologize, but that was when he’d started collecting little things to bring her. They were inconsequential trinkets–little souvenirs from away games–and they never talked about it, but Bee displayed every single one of them on her bookshelf. When that bookshelf filled up, she bought another one. She saw the growing collection as proof of Andrew’s humanity. Bee had recognized almost immediately after meeting him that Andrew wasn’t a sociopath, but she still viewed the presents he left her as priceless demonstrations of the depth of feeling that lurked beneath his volatile exterior. 

Andrew had started bringing her trinkets, and Bee had started texting him. Usually they were just small observations, like a picture of a new hot cocoa blend from Costco or a video of Bee’s cat chasing a laser pointer. Andrew almost never responded, but he kept his read receipts on so she knew he saw every text. They’d slowly formed their own kind of relationship built on mugs of hot cocoa, airport souvenirs, and text messages. Bee would never admit it, but Andrew was the patient she enjoyed sessions with the most.

When Andrew arrived–exactly on time–Bee passed him the packets of hot cocoa mix and made herself comfortable as he fixed them both cups. Bee always let him make the drinks as a way to give him some control over their meetings, and because he insisted she didn’t use the right ratio of cocoa to marshmallows. When he’d settled down across from her and handed over his phone (part of their agreement was that Andrew had to fully detach from his other responsibilities while they talked) Bee opened the conversation.

“How are you doing?”

She always asked the same first question, and Andrew always responded the same way.

“None of your business.”

They went from there, with Bee cycling through the same questions and Andrew giving many of the same responses. She asked about Nicky  _ (annoying), _ Kevin _ (I hate him), _ Aaron  _ (I don’t want to talk about it), _ and Exy  _ (boring). _

Finally, having warmed up sufficiently, Bee asked the question she actually wanted the answer to.

“And how’s Neil?”   


Andrew looked at her sharply–this was not one of their usual questions.

“Why?” he asked, with almost genuine curiosity.

Bee kept her tone indifferent. “He didn’t play last week, did he? Is he still hurt?” She carefully didn’t mention Andrew’s outburst in the medical room.

Andrew was so taken aback that the real answer was out before he could think about how to evade the question. “He’s better. Abby said he can play on Friday.”

“He must be happy, hmm?”

Andrew shrugged. “He’s a junkie.”

“Do you think he’s addicted to Exy? Is that why you call him a junkie?”

“He  _ needs _ Exy,” Andrew explained, his tone disdainful.

Bee nodded. “Do you think he needs it more than the other people on the team need it?”

“I don’t know, he’s so…” Bee waited as Andrew searched for the right words. “He acts like he can’t live without it. He’d die for it,” Andrew finally finished.

“Do you think he’s wrong, to care so much about Exy?”

“I think it’s stupid.”

“Stupid, or difficult for you to understand?” she prodded.

“I don’t not understand it,” said Andrew hotly, offended at the idea that there was something beyond his understanding. “I think it’s a waste of time. He’s living on borrowed time as it is.”

“Do you feel like you’re living on borrowed time?”

Andrew snorted. “I shouldn’t even be here,” he said, gesturing to where Bee knew the evidence of his self-harm lay beneath the black bands wrapped around his forearms. 

“But you are here,” she said matter-of-factly, “And Neil is here too. Why do you think he shouldn’t spend whatever time he has doing something he cares about?”

“He’s going to lose it,” Andrew said quietly. “Someone’s going to take it away from him, and he’ll self-destruct. It’s not worth it.”

Bee calmly took in this new information. “How would you feel, if he did self-destruct?”

Andrew looked at her blankly. “No,” he replied shortly.

“No?”

“No,” he repeated.

Bee sighed inwardly. “Okay,” she acquiesced, and continued on with her usual questions. 

Bee was still thinking about her session with Andrew as she drove to Abby’s house later that evening. It was Wymack’s birthday and all the Foxes were heading to Abby’s for a taco night to celebrate. Bee usually tried not to intrude on team events because she liked to keep some distance between herself and her patients, but David had insisted she at least make an appearance. Bee drove the familiar route without really thinking, preferring to mull over Andrew’s responses to her questions about Neil. It was rare for him to shut her down so completely–his perfunctory answers usually at least told her  _ something  _ about what he was thinking. Bee thought about what she knew of Neil, which wasn’t much. It was obvious he didn’t like her, and that he viewed the idea of being completely honest with someone he didn’t know as akin to sticking his hand in boiling water. She knew he’d had a rough childhood because she’d seen his files from Arizona, but David had warned her that they probably didn't contain the full story. Bee brushed aside her thoughts about Andrew and Neil as she pulled up to Abby’s house.

Bee was greeted with happy laughter as she opened the unlocked front door, and her heart swelled with love. After saying hello to the Foxes who were scattered around the living room, she made her way to the kitchen where David and Abby were prepping dinner.

“Bee!” Abby exclaimed, and pulled her into a warm hug. David was next, wrapping her in a friendly embrace while she wished him a happy birthday. She quickly got to work helping her two friends set the table and finish the last of the chopping, and before long the kitchen counter was completely covered in countless bowls of taco fixings. David went to round up the Foxes from the living room and Bee was sent to collect Andrew, who’d been smoking a cigarette on the back porch.

Bee was about to yell for him through the propped-open back door when she saw a shadowy figure approach from his side. Neil stepped into the halo of light emanating from the house and stooped to rest his elbows on the porch railing next to Andrew, their shoulders nearly touching. Andrew didn’t bother looking over but wordlessly pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a brief flash of his lighter, and handed it to Neil. Neil took one long puff and then cradled the cigarette between his cupped hands, breathing deeply. From her position in the doorway Bee could hear them talking to one another quietly.

“Ready for the game on Friday?” Neil asked.

Andrew didn’t respond, but turned his head slightly to examine his teammate. Bee was surprised he didn’t tell Neil how boring Exy was, something that Bee herself heard about from Andrew regularly.

Neil spoke again. “Are you going to play?” 

“I’ll be on the court,” Andrew responded. Bee wasn’t close enough to see Neil roll his eyes at the response.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he said drily, “but you know what I mean.”

Andrew flicked a bit of ash from the end of his cigarette, watching as it fell onto the chipped porch railing.

“What will you give me if I do?” he asked, so low that Bee had to strain to hear it.

Neil stared into Andrew’s hazel eyes. “You know I’ll give you anything,” he said, with the practiced air of someone who’d said the same thing many times before.

“I know,” Andrew responded. 

Neil must have seen something on Andrew’s face that Bee couldn’t because he broke into a smile so radiant you could see it in the dark.

“Good,” he said, and handed his cigarette to Andrew to finish smoking. 

As Neil turned away to walk back inside, Bee found her voice at last. “Andrew!” she called, “Dinner’s ready.” 

Bee tried very, very hard not to look at Neil and Andrew for the rest of the evening, worried that Andrew would pick up on her entirely unprofessional joy at seeing the two of them together and shut down. As it was, Abby asked her twice why she looked so thrilled.

“Oh nothing,” Bee brushed it aside both times, “I’m just happy everyone is together for David’s birthday.” Bee was always careful not to talk about the Foxes with Abby and David unless they needed to make clinical decisions.

Bee didn’t have exact confirmation about the nature of the relationship between Andrew and Neil, but she knew there was  _ a  _ relationship, and that was enough. Andrew didn’t speak to anyone the way he’d spoken to Neil, and Bee was sure that wasn’t the first time they’d had a conversation like the one she’d overheard. Her head was already spinning with ways to broach the topic of their relationship during Andrew's next session and she was mildly concerned about what this might mean for Andrew’s progress, but she couldn’t help but spend a little bit of time basking in the success of her patient. She honestly hadn’t been certain that Andrew would ever form real friendships beyond those he already had–their therapy had been focused on strengthening his existing relationships rather than finding new ones–and Neil might not exactly be a friend to Andrew, but he was maybe something better.

It wasn’t until Bee got home much later that night that she felt comfortable fully letting out her emotions. She unlocked her bright yellow front door, did a little happy dance over the threshold, and went to see if she could convince her wife to partake in a celebratory glass of champagne with her. 


	5. Aaron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to suicide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah.
> 
> I do read all the comments even when I don't respond (I literally don't know how to react to the nice ones) and I really appreciate them! Thank you.

Aaron got back to his dorm room just as Andrew was leaving it. They met in the doorway, and Andrew pushed past him so roughly that Aaron had to catch himself on the door frame to avoid falling backwards into the hallway. 

“Fuck you too, Andrew!” he called at Andrew’s retreating back. Andrew threw up a middle finger in return but didn’t bother turning around. Aaron watched as his brother disappeared into the stairwell, the door slamming behind him with a loud bang. The first time Aaron met his twin he’d been fascinated by the way he walked; he’d wondered if that was how other people saw him.

Aaron didn’t look at Andrew with fascination anymore, just hate and regret.

As Aaron dropped his bag by the couch, a crumpled piece of paper on Andrew’s desk caught his attention. Andrew’s desk was almost always bare except for his cigarettes and the occasional textbook, although Aaron had never actually seen Andrew study for anything.

Aaron didn’t want to care what Andrew had been looking at, but he couldn’t help himself. A part of him still clung to the idea of a relationship with Andrew, of being the kind of siblings that knew things about each other’s lives, and that part of him urged him to pick up the piece of paper.

Aaron smoothed out the crinkled paper with shaking hands, glancing anxiously at the door to make sure Andrew hadn’t come back to yell at him for nosing around his things.

_ Dear Andrew, _

_ I hope it’s okay that I’m writing to you. If you don’t want to hear from me, you can throw this letter away as soon as you get it. But I hope you read it, and I hope you can eventually understand the things I’m telling you. _

_ When I heard what you told the police about Drake, I didn’t believe it. I thought you were covering for your brother, or making something up to hurt me. But I talked to Officer Higgins yesterday and he told me you were telling the truth. I’m still trying to make sense of it, but I think that deep in my heart I already knew it was true. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, and that you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I used to think that Richard and I were the best thing that had happened to you, that we were going to save you somehow from the system that had done you so wrong. I see now how horribly self-righteous I was, and I know that we only contributed to the harm you experienced. For that I am deeply sorry. _

_ I don’t expect you to forgive me and I’m not sure I’ll ever really be able to forgive you for ending my son’s life, even though I understand why you and your brother did what you did. I won’t pretend that I know what you’ve been through or how you feel, just like I don’t think you’ll ever understand how I feel, having lost a child. But I didn’t just lose Drake; I lost you too. I was hurt when you didn’t want to be my son, but I never stopped thinking of myself as your mother. If I could go back in time and undo everything bad that has happened, I would. But I wouldn’t undo loving you. I hope you find some peace one day, and that you have people who love and care for you the way you deserve. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Cass Spear _

Aaron sat down heavily on the floor, Cass’ letter still clenched in his hands. He couldn’t believe she’d written to Andrew.  _ Fuck,  _ he thought.  _ Fuck.  _ Just when he thought the worst was behind them, with Drake dead and Aaron acquitted of his murder, Cass had to write to Andrew and bring it all up again. 

And christ, what were they supposed to do with that shit anyway? What, she’d always thought of Andrew as a son but she’d never forgive him? How could she not see what that would do to Andrew, how it would rip him apart?

_ Andrew. _

Aaron was struck by an intense desire to see his brother, to make sure he was still...well, not  _ okay, _ but at least breathing. Aaron felt the panic rising in his throat as his head swam with images of Andrew lying dead in the stairwell, his wrists slit open with one of his own knives. Aaron was out of the room before he even knew where he was going, and he didn’t stop running until he was halfway down the stairs. 

_ Wait. The roof. _

Aaron knew that Andrew went to the roof sometimes to smoke because he’d followed him once, curious about his brother’s secret hideouts despite their dysfunctional relationship.

He turned on his heel and raced back up the stairs, desperation creeping over him as the images of Andrew bleeding out in the stairwell were replaced by images of Andrew lying spread-eagle on the concrete sidewalk in front of the dorm, his body broken from the fall.

Aaron pulled open the heavy door leading to the roof and saw Andrew leaning precariously over the edge. He was about to run forward and yank his brother back to safety when he realized that there was another person on the roof with him. Neil had one hand twisted in the back of Andrew’s t-shirt and the other braced against the edge of the building, holding Andrew in place as he dry-heaved violently.

Aaron was so surprised to find Neil on the roof that he stood completely still for a moment, unsure of what to do. Andrew finally sat back on his knees, and he pulled a loose cigarette from his pocket and shoved it between his lips. After two failed attempts to light it, Neil pulled the lighter from Andrew’s shaking hands and lit it for him. The glow of the cigarette briefly illuminated the two men’s faces, and Aaron could’ve sworn he saw a single tear track on his brother’s cheek. But Aaron knew Andrew didn’t cry, so he thought he must be seeing things; in the few years that Aaron had known Andrew, he’d never shown sadness. Andrew didn’t show anything except annoyance and rage and violence.

Andrew finished his cigarette and immediately pulled out another, which Neil lit for him automatically. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Neil asked. Aaron was standing just a few yards away and could hear them clearly, but neither Andrew nor Neil seemed to notice him. Aaron thought briefly about turning around again and leaving them to their conversation, but something in him kept his feet planted by the door.

Andrew shook his head, and the two men sat in silence for a while. Andrew stubbed out the remains of his second cigarette and rocked forward suddenly, moving so his face was just inches from Neil’s.

“Yes or no?” he asked.

Aaron didn’t understand the question, but Neil didn’t seem phased. 

“Not tonight,” Neil eventually answered, and Andrew sprung backwards as though burned, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them tightly. 

“Hey,” said Neil forcefully, “It’s not a ‘no.’ It’s a ‘not while you’re upset.’”

Andrew didn’t look at him.

“I won’t be like them,” Neil added softly.

“You’ve never been like them,” Andrew mumbled to himself.

“You might regret it later, if we do this tonight.”

Andrew seemed to unfurl slightly as he looked up at Neil. “I just...I want to not think for a while.”

Aaron could hear the plea in his brother’s voice–something he’d never heard there before. Andrew didn’t beg anyone for anything.

Neil seemed to hear it too. “Are you sure?”

Andrew gave a single nod. 

“Ask me again,” Neil demanded, slowly inching closer to Andrew.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil said firmly this time, and he leaned forward to press his lips to Andrew’s. They looked like they were melting into each other, fusing together as they embraced on the rooftop. Aaron couldn’t watch anymore. He made his way back down to the dorm room on autopilot, his brain scrambling to process what he’d just seen.

Neil Josten, whom Aaron didn’t trust or like at all, had somehow convinced Andrew– _ Andrew _ –to open up to him. To  _ be  _ with him. Aaron’s shock quickly turned to anger. He’d been sneaking around with Katelyn for nearly a year because of the stupid fucking deal that Andrew was forcing him to keep, but Andrew had been fucking  _ Neil Josten  _ the whole time? Aaron was so angry he thought he might implode. And they were  _ still up there together,  _ taking comfort in one another when Aaron hadn’t been able to see Katelyn in weeks because he was worried about Andrew finding out and hurting her. 

A smaller part of Aaron, hidden behind all the anger, realized that he was jealous. He’d tried so hard for so long to understand his brother, but Neil had waltzed into their lives just months ago and already had a deeper relationship with Andrew than he did. Aaron knew that the problems he had with Andrew were partly his own doing, but it felt good to blame Neil instead. He hated both of them.

Aaron needed to get out–he couldn’t stand to look at Andrew’s things for a second longer. He pulled on his sneakers and tore out the door, sprinting before he even hit the lobby. It was after midnight by the time he got back to the dorm, exhausted and feeling emotionally drained, but Andrew wasn’t in his bed. Aaron tried desperately not to care, but even his intense anger and the ocean of issues between him and his brother couldn’t stop the tiny bit of worry that wriggled into the back of his mind. He pulled out his phone to text Andrew, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing for sure that he was alive.

_ Where r u _

His phone dinged a few long seconds later with Andrew’s response.

_ Court _

Aaron hated the relief he felt as he climbed into bed and closed his eyes.


	6. Allison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: brief reference to an eating disorder in the first paragraph

Allison had never found sorrow to be very productive. Sadness had not helped her escape the pressures of her upbringing. It hadn’t helped her when she looked in the mirror one day and realized she could count each of her ribs through her paper-thin skin. Nor had sorrow been helpful when her parents disowned her because they were unable to comprehend why she needed to leave the life they had meticulously planned for her.

When Seth died, Allison wallowed in her sadness for all of a week. She mourned the loss of his potential and she grieved for her own loneliness. And then Andrew had whispered in her ear like the serpent did to Eve and revealed the truth of what Riko had done, and Allison felt a rage so intense that it swept all of the sadness right out of her. She relished in her righteous anger because it was less complex than her sorrow.

Allison had distanced herself from Neil at first, unable to look at him without seeing red.  _ He took Seth.  _ She knew it wasn’t really true, but her rage did not listen to logic. Neil had opened his mouth, and Seth had been taken from her. It didn’t help that Neil himself cowered away from her as though he had personally killed Seth.

Neil never apologized, but Allison slowly learned to forgive. It was a monumental task for a woman so stubborn, but she accomplished it eventually. The last speck of rage that had been hiding out in the darkest corner of her heart had been completely obliterated as soon as she saw Neil after winter break. Riko hadn’t just tortured and beaten him, he’d robbed Neil of his identity and returned a stranger. Allison knew then that Neil never would have intentionally sacrificed Seth when he was so obviously willing to sacrifice every part of himself. 

Allison had forgiven Neil, but she still didn’t know what to think when she stumbled upon Neil and Andrew on the roof one day.

She’d been walking back late from a party, more than a little buzzed, and had taken a moment before heading inside the dorm to tip her head toward the sky in the way that drunk people often do. She was busy admiring the stars spread out like a blanket above her, marveling at the smallness of her existence, when she spotted a dim yellow glow in the corner of her eye. She squinted at the spot where it was coming from on the roof, only for it to suddenly disappear.

Had Allison been sober, she would’ve recognized it as the flame from a lighter and correctly deduced that someone was simply smoking on the roof. But Allison wasn’t at all sober, and so she felt an intense compulsion to follow the mysterious vanishing light to its source.

She made her way up the steps to the roof with some effort, grasping the hand rail to keep her balance as she swayed unsteadily in her heels. Pushing the door open, she quickly forgot about the light she’d been following. 

Two men were sitting together at the edge of the roof, lit cigarettes lying forgotten beside them as they kissed intensely. She stayed rooted to the spot, gaping openly as the two finally pulled away from one another just enough to look into each other’s eyes.  _ It’s Neil and Andrew, _ Allison realized with shock. She suddenly felt significantly less tipsy than she had a moment before.

Neil kept a hand firmly entwined in Andrew’s hair _ –and holy fuck, Andrew was letting Neil touch him– _ as he spoke in a quiet voice. 

“Is it still 94%?”

Allison thought for a moment that she might be more crossed than she’d realized because the question made no sense to her, but Andrew seemed to understand.

“It’s 95% now.”

Neil huffed a dry laugh and leaned down to grab one of the abandoned cigarettes, placing it carefully between Andrew’s lips in a strangely intimate gesture.

“Thank you,” Neil said as Andrew took a long drag of the cig.

“For what?”

Neil smiled softly at him, apparently not put off at all by the man’s hard tone. “Everything.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “96%”

Neil’s smile turned into a full grin. “Thanks for the other 4%, then.”

“One day it’ll be a hundred,” Andrew challenged, but there was no real heat in his voice. 

“I think we can aim higher than that. How does 150% sound?”

Andrew just shook his head. The two sat shoulder-to-shoulder in companionable silence and Allison still couldn’t seem to move from her spot near the door. 

Finally, Andrew spoke again. “Tell me a secret.”

Neil tipped his head in contemplation. “I hate the west coast. My mom died there.”

Even in her inebriated state, Allison knew she had heard enough. Neil was intensely private, and she couldn’t eavesdrop on his secrets in good conscience.

Allison managed to stumble her way back down the stairs and into her bed, her mind still whirring with half-baked thoughts as she drifted off into a dreamless, drunken slumber.

When Allison woke the next day, it was to a raging hangover and jumbled memories of the previous evening. She remembered a round of shots at a bar, and a keg in someone’s basement. And she remembered the roof. At first she was sure she’d imagined it–it wouldn’t be the first time she’d experienced odd, substance-induced hallucinations. 

But then at practice she paid a little bit more attention than usual to the goalie and their rookie. It was barely noticeable, but Neil seemed to almost orient himself around Andrew on the court. He was constantly aware of the goalie, frequently looking back at him as though checking to make sure he was still in position in the goal. When Andrew started hurling balls straight at his teammates’ faces (out of boredom or malice no one could be sure), Neil was quicker than Dan in approaching him. They had a quiet conversation, mumbling to one another in short bursts before Neil returned to his place on the court. Andrew didn’t aim for faces after that. 

It wasn’t anything particularly romantic, but Allison knew that with Andrew just getting him to listen to another person was practically a miracle. She thought back to the moment on the roof that she’d assumed was a dream and she wasn’t so sure that it hadn’t been real anymore.

Allison wanted to be angry. Neil and Andrew had both played a role in the tragic end to her own dysfunctional relationship; she should be furious that they now had what’d been stolen from her. But Allison was surprised to find that she didn’t feel particularly rageful at all. Instead, she felt almost...happy for them? Well, happy for Neil at least. It was hard to feel anything but animosity for Andrew after the man had nearly choked her to death in a parking lot. 

Andrew and Neil made sense together in a weird kind of way, she supposed. And she was going to make so much money betting on their relationship. Allison smiled a little smugly to herself, and then she turned her attention back to the court and got on with it. 


	7. Everyone Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this kind of a cop out because I forgot about this fic for several months but I felt obligated to finish it? That's a secret I'll never tell xoxo

The buzzer signaling the end of the championship game rang out across the court and Neil came to a sudden stop, his heart pounding with exertion and some underlying emotion that he couldn’t quite identify. His last game as a Fox was over. Neil swiped his sweaty hair away from his eyes and looked up at the scoreboard; he only had a split second to process the big digital numbers that spelled out their victory before he was being swept up by the rest of the team and hoisted onto their shoulders.  _ We won, _ they were chanting, loud enough for Neil to hear over the rushing of his own blood in his ears.  _ We won. _

Neil’s eyes caught on a familiar shock of blonde hair sitting high up in the stands and his smile grew bigger. Andrew came to the edge of the court and Neil hobbled over to the impassive goalie once he'd been set back down on his feet. The two of them stood staring at each other for a long moment, just on the outskirts of the pack of still-screaming Foxes.

“You’re done with the Foxes,” Andrew said.

Neil nodded, but he didn’t feel the wave of grief he’d expected. He had a new team waiting for him in Chicago – a team that included Andrew. 

“Are we hiding?” Neil asked, gesturing toward the several feet of empty space between them. They’d never intentionally kept their relationship a secret, but neither did they have any desire to be particularly public about it. Now, in the haze of victory and his waning adrenaline rush, Neil felt an almost desperate urge to get his hands on any part of Andrew that the man would let him touch.

“No,” Andrew answered simply, and Neil immediately closed the gap between them so that they were standing practically nose to nose.

“Can I tell them, if they ask?”

Andrew just shrugged and Neil shuffled another half step forward, pressing even farther into Andrew’s personal space. 

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Neil felt like his face was going to split in half with the force of his grin, and he could swear he saw the corners of Andrew’s mouth twitch upwards in the ghost of an answering smile. He moved a hand up to cup Andrew’s face and watched the other man’s eyes flutter closed as he stroked his thumb along his jawline. The small moment was entirely lost in the post-victory hubbub and Neil felt the court around them fade away, content to focus on the way that Andrew’s features transformed into something soft and pliable under his touch. 

When Andrew opened his eyes again Neil motioned toward the rest of the Foxes, and Andrew followed Neil into the fray. There was a collective cheer as their captain rejoined them and the Foxes seemed genuinely happy to have Andrew participate in the celebration too, though they were all careful not to slap his back the way they did Neil’s.

Wymack eventually corralled the team back to the locker room, signaling for Neil and one of the more eager freshmen to stay behind on press duty. Andrew didn’t leave his spot next to Neil as a gaggle of reporters crowded around them, shooting wary glances at Andrew when they thought he wasn’t looking. Andrew had never given a press interview before, not even when he’d signed with his pro team; he’d let his PR person handle all the questions and simply refused to answer any that were directly asked of him.

“And how do you feel about playing on the same team as Andrew again?”

Neil flicked his gaze over to Andrew before answering. “Yeah, I’m excited. It’ll be nice to be in the same city again.”

The reporter who’d asked the question looked visibly taken aback; rumors of Andrew and Neil’s rivalry, strengthened by the fact that they both had violent pasts, ran rampant in the college Exy community.

“So you two are friends?”

Neil glanced over at Andrew again and the goalie inclined his head slightly in silent approval. Neil looked back at the reporter, who he was pleased to note was wearing her press pass on a rainbow-colored lanyard. 

“We’re a bit more than friends,” he said, imbuing his tone with light sarcasm.

“Wha–”

Andrew cut her off with a short, “We’re engaged.”

There was a beat of silence while the reporter gaped at them dumbly before Neil added, “To be married.”

The world around them erupted in camera flashes and shouting, and Neil found himself being tugged toward the locker room by an annoyed Andrew. Wymack managed to catch up to them in the hallway.

“What the hell did you say?” he asked, probably already mentally preparing to deal with the fallout of one of Neil’s biting remarks. 

“We told them we’re getting married,” said Neil.

Wymack’s mouth hung open comically. “You  _ what?” _ he spluttered.

Neil shrugged his shoulders, then tugged off his left glove to reveal a simple gold band encircling his ring finger. Wymack turned to Andrew, who just raised an eyebrow. 

“You fucking idiots,” said Wymack, but he was smiling. “Go get changed. The team is going to tear you apart when they find out.”

Neil and Andrew dutifully headed to the locker room where the Foxes were still celebrating raucously.

There was a loud banging on the locker room doors just as Neil emerged from the showers. 

“Let us in, you beautiful assholes!” 

One of the freshmen, looking mildly terrified, opened the door and Neil’s entire rookie year team spilled in, along with Erik and Katelyn. Nicky led the charge, looking around wildly until his eyes finally stopped on Neil.

“You’re dating Andrew?” He shouted it so loudly that more than one person in the room winced. 

“You’re  _ marrying  _ Andrew?” Allison asked incredulously. 

Nicky turned to her, his expression startled. “You knew they were together?”

“I’m pretty sure everyone knew but you,” Dan said from somewhere near the door.

“I wish I didn’t know,” Wymack muttered, pushing into the locker room to join his team and closely followed by Abby and Bee. 

“Are you guys really getting married?” Matt’s earnest question redirected everyone’s attention back to Neil and Andrew.

It was Andrew who spoke up from his spot in the corner, leaning against his old locker with a bored expression. “Yes,” he confirmed to the room at large, as casually as if he’d just told them his favorite color was black.

There was a second of stunned silence before all hell broke loose. Nicky grabbed for Neil’s hand to examine the ring, Dan and Allison began forking large bundles of cash over to a smug Matt, and Aaron stared at his twin brother in apparent shock. Nicky started chattering enthusiastically about the merits of a summer wedding and Neil shot a desperate glance toward Andrew, who evidently decided to take pity on the man who would one day be his husband.

“Shut up.” His voice was quiet but dangerous enough to silence the room almost instantly. “We’re leaving.” 

Andrew turned to stride through the locker room doors, Neil quick on his heels.

Neil paused in the doorway to address his friends and teammates. “You can all meet us in Columbia tonight for the victory party!”

When they’d finally driven far enough that Neil could no longer see the stadium in the rearview mirror, he twisted in his seat to look at Andrew.

“Are you upset,” he asked, “now that everyone knows?”

Andrew didn’t even spare him a glance before responding, “No, I’ve never cared who knows.”

Neil smiled to himself and moved his hand so it was hovering over Andrew’s leg. “Yes or no?”

Andrew looked down briefly. “Yes.”

Neil squeezed Andrew’s thigh under his hand, happy just to be alone in a car with him. 

“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kevin knew the whole time and did not give a single fuck.


End file.
